


finally developing fine taste

by ayselz



Category: Aveyond
Genre: F/M, damn i miss playing aveyond, i owe this pairing fluff okay all of my past writing about them were angst, just some quick ol' fluff for my av otp, sedona x cheese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 03:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17438855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayselz/pseuds/ayselz
Summary: “Lars definitely was drunk. And he surely wouldn’t be remembering any of this tomorrow. Never in his sober state he would say what he wanted to do in the future, let alone tell Rhen that she surely would be in it. Still, this didn’t stop her cheeks from heating up.”–Rhen and Lars find their way to their newly-purchased manor, under the Sedonian moonlight; also, in which Rhen finds out that Lars is a loose-lipped drunk.





	finally developing fine taste

Mere wine would not get him drunk, he’d said. Rhen’s disappointment was spelt clearly on her face as she struggled to hold the inebriated sorcerer upright with one arm and hold the skirt of her ball gown with the other. She could have easily asked other members of the party for help, but Te’ijal went out for a quick hunt in the nearby woods, and both Galahad and Elini had stayed in the ballroom—Elini trying to bait an unaware northerner into being her new husband, Galahad watching out for who might be the Sedonian king’s assassin.

“…and my Mother owns a collection of antique earthenware!” Lars drawled out drunkenly, waving a hand to an invisible audience. It nearly hit Rhen right on the face, save for her quick reflex. “Some of them date back to the peak of Thais. Imagine how old they are…! Queen Alicia’s personal flower vase is one of them!”

“Queen Alicia lived less than 20 years ago, Lars,” chided Rhen with an eye-roll, a habit she developed from being around the green-haired sorcerer for too long. “It’s not an antique if it’s not very dated.”

Lars scoffed, the bite he clearly intended coming across as hilarious due to his intoxication. “What do you know about wealthy people talk, little Peta?”

She considered throwing him on the ground and leaving his deadweight of an ass under the moonlight. What only held her back was the fact that Lars would surely be mad if he woke up in the streets, and he would surely blow up the door of their newly-purchased manor. No, Rhen most certainly did not spend a huge chunk of their savings and even wore a godforsaken ball gown just for their house to be destroyed in one of Lars’ childish explosive tantrums.

“I know a bit,” she said instead, choosing to play along with his drunken blabbering, “I think your snobbery when it comes to furniture as rubbed off on me a little.”

He laughed; a sudden, rich sound which was rarely elicited from him. More often he scoffed and snickered, the nature of his delight almost always something twisted or sarcastic. His laughter—the genuine one, stemming from absolute joy—was a once in a blue moon occurrence. And whenever she heard it, it never ceased to make her heart race and her breath catch.

“But of course!” he agreed, far too enthusiastic and too delighted to be _Lars_. “Between Elini and I, your taste really should have improved from barbaric to semi-exquisite.” She raised an eyebrow at this, trying to find in herself to be offended. The Rhen two years ago would have immediately insulted him in defense, but she prided in the fact that she knew better now.

Lars thoroughly enjoyed his time in Clearwater—the very _barbaric_ place he was talking about—and even if he denied doing so for the rest of his life, Rhen would never take his denial to heart. She’d seen how his eyes lit up when she offered him a freshly-picked apple from one of Clearwater's many orchards.

Rhen hummed in reply. Somehow her predicament has become easier, as Lars wasn’t flailing his arms about anymore. His invisible audience was probably gone now, she thought with a soft chuckle, replaced with only her, someone stubborn enough to counter his statements with whatever she had in her arsenal.

Nights in Sedona were surprisingly nice and quiet, far removed from the hustle and bustle in Ghalarah she had been used to. Considering that it was the greatest city in the whole of Aia, one would thought that it would be teeming with life and activity even after sunset. But it seemed as if even the more cultured people of Sedona feared the same monsters the inhabitants of Clearwater and Brumwich did, as almost everyone locked themselves inside their doors come moonrise. The only people milling about were employees returning to their homes after a whole day of work, and weary travelers seeking for a sojourn before they resume their journey.

Tall lamps dotting the city’s cobbled streets emitted warm yellow light, reminding Rhen of the city’s strange obsession with cheese. Stars peeked out from behind clouds; the full moon shone on the sleeping city unabashedly.

They arrived in front of their manor shortly. There were a few noticeable chips in its paint, the flowers planted by its walls bowed and nearly withering. It sure looked neglected by its caretaker, not worth the hefty amount they had to pay, yet it brought a smile to Rhen’s face. Maybe it was a waste, buying something permanent in the midst of a journey where there was no guarantee of making it out alive in the end, but Rhen felt a surge of satisfaction.

In her wonder over the house, she nearly missed Lars’ mumbling.

“We can paint this and plant a new garden in the yard.”

That would take a few weeks off their journey, a few more weeks letting Ahriman wreak havoc in the world and daevas they haven’t found yet continue terrorizing the parts of Aia they haven’t reached.

“That would take weeks,” she said.

Lars detached himself from her grip, his gait swaying as he stepped towards the front porch. “It’s fine, Rhen. We still haven’t found a ship.”

“We can’t afford getting sidetracked, though. Getting lessons from the gang in the plaza was already taking too much time, and we have to look for the assassin as well. We don’t have time for painting and planting, Lars.”

He looked at her over his shoulder, eyes shining, cheeks flushed. “And here I was thinking that you were finally developing fine taste, Rhen. I would never come back to a house as ugly as this, let alone use it for vacation.”

Rhen was confused. She stayed rooted to her spot. “Use it for vacation?” she echoed, feeling a bit stupid.

“Of course!” Lars agreed without missing a beat. “Once we’re done with Ahriman, we will be going back to Veldarah, yes? To become High Sorcerer and High Sword Singer of the Academy. I heard they would be sending envoys here from time to time. Don’t you think it would be nice if we have a place we can call home here?”

Lars definitely was drunk. And he surely wouldn’t be remembering any of this tomorrow. Never in his sober state he would say what he wanted to do in the future, let alone tell Rhen that she surely would be in it. Still, this didn’t stop her cheeks from heating up.

However, before she was able to voice out a reply, he lost his balance and fell face-first into the untrimmed grass.

(Lars did vehemently deny all about the “mushy crap” Rhen said he did say last night, over breakfast cooked up by Elini, yet everyone poked fun at the tinge of pink in his cheeks as he did so.)

**Author's Note:**

> I...love...Rhen and Lars...and I missed them...


End file.
